What we do while waiting for Jim's swimming lessons to be over.

Stand outside the Y and collect compliments from entranced old people, of course. Hit it, Lottie:


She likes to play it up when she senses an admiring public.


But she's not too proud to come racing over when she needs an explanation for some fascinating thing like a piece of bark.


Try as she might, she's not quite big enough to hurl herself into the fountain yet. Don't worry, Lottie. Jim's got the constant-peril part of the family covered.


She's got the being-charming thing covered, though. Read her lips: "Hiiiiiiiii!"

And how are Jim's swimming lessons going, you ask? Great! He loves them, except that they leave him a little chilly. "Too cold for Jim," says he every day. According to his teacher, he's kind of alarmingly fearless in that he won't reliably hold on to the rail, which is why he needs to stay in the ultra-beginner class where they have one-on-one supervision. Other than that completely expected character flaw feature, he's doing really well. He can swim 5 yards on his front or his back, float in the water, make his way to the edge and get out without assistance, and do a pretty killer cannonball. That's all you can really expect from a 4-year-old, right?

Did I tell you about my cat?

What's that? There are living creatures besides children in this house?


Looking plaintive after nudging his cat food out from under the counter.

Oh yes, there are, and one of them recently had surgery. Some of you may recall poor old Bruce and the saga of his swollen, scabrous face. What we thought was a bad food allergy turned out to be pretty savage allergic reaction to his own tooth decay. So, off he went to the vet this week to have most of his remaining teeth extracted. Poor guy only has ten teeth left, but on the up side, his face looks a million times better, and he's got more pep in his step than he's had in a year.


He didn't appreciate me taking a picture of his shaved leg.

Miniature golf.

Well, it didn't go as well as bowling. But it was still fun, I'll give it that. Jim loved the idea, and all of us were ready for an outing. Alas, we had the bad idea to go at like 11 am, when it was both hotter than Venus and dead smack in the middle of Lottie's naptime. Also, Jim's excitement wore thin pretty fast and he started looking for alternate ways of amusing himself. Four-year-olds are good at that.


Most of the day looked like this, with Ilya painstakingly trying to instill good golfing form in a semi-cooperative but mostly uninterested Jim.


But look, it's almost like he knows what he's doing, right? Temporarily, anyway.


Lottie could only shake her head in dismay.


Don't let the expression of good cheer fool you. She was a raging tyrant by the seventh hole.


Even getting to push the stroller didn't appease her for long.

Long story short: We left after the ninth hole so that the baby could take a nap and the rest of us could recover some sanity. Oh well. Maybe next year.

Hanging out with relations (or at their house, anyway).

Jim was pretty cool.


He made Lottie a blanket pile. I don't know why.


Best place for watching cartoons.


Aunt Emmy painted Lottie's toenails (and she held still for it, too!).


The result.


Jim and Uncle Ilya, silently entranced by the wonders of technology.


Lottie's first selfie. Well, no, she's had hundreds. Lottie's most recent selfie, anyway.

Miscellanea.

I asked Jim to go get Lottie a cheese stick. He came back and said he had a better snack. Lottie didn't disagree: An entire bag of grapes is basically baby heaven.


Jim likes to get crazy when he's brushing his face. Er, his teeth, I mean.


He said he was a safari guy building a safari truck.


Jim and Lottie are street, yo.


Jim was super super proud of this little pumpkin we grew. It turned into mini pumpkin pies at Emmy and Ilya's last weekend.


Forgive the blur, but I assume you can make out the sheer thrill she's getting out of dancing.


Lottie's stompy dance in all its glory.


Jim made a "friendly dragon." Lottie liked it.

What a charmer.

So I asked Jim what he did in his swimming lesson today, and he told the following story:

My girl was there, and I said to her "POOP!" and she said "Why you say poop to me?" and I said "HOT DOG POOP!"

Good come-back, Jim. I can already tell he's going to be a hit with the ladies.

Bowling!

Jim was too excited to stand still for a picture of him in his bowling shoes.


Forgive the blur, but you have to appreciate the technique on display. Jim mostly utilized the "chuck it from on high" method of bowling.


Watching the result. He was a pretty good sport, actually, for most of the game. Much high-fiving all around if a lot of pins go down, and a comforting pat on the hand with a "don't worry, you'll get more next time" if it's a miss.


Lottie was mostly just excited about the ball return thingy. And the olives that came with our nachos.